


Five Forehead Kisses

by sangueuk



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-08
Updated: 2011-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-14 13:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangueuk/pseuds/sangueuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary</b>: In which I link random scenes with forehead kisses.<br/><b>Warnings</b>: none<br/>Intriguing snippet: <i> Jim didn't comment on how this was totally out of character for Bones. It would have been like acknowledging a skittish cat that had finally crept out from under the couch - so he acted like this was something that happened every day.<br/><b>Disclaimer</b>: I mean no offence and court no profits, these boys belong to others more talented and deserving, I merely borrow them, play a while then return them all cleaned up and smiley.</i></p><p>Thanks to beta awarrington</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Forehead Kisses

**Five forehead kisses (and one that wasn’t)**

**five**

Bones hated playing pool - Jim knew that.

"Fucking waste of time," he'd grouch, nursing his drink, content to watch.

But this one time the bar was practically empty. It was the middle of an unusually hot Sunday; Jim had parked his bike up outside and they'd gone inside to cool off.

"Hey! Pool table!" he grinned, slapping McCoy on the arm. He blinked till his eyes adjusted to the light and made his way to the bar. He didn't ask McCoy what he wanted - he didn't need to.

He waited to order and watched McCoy rack up, the way his bangs fell across his forehead and how his long fingers rolled the balls into place.

Jim walked over with both their bottles and swapped one for a cue.

"You wanna break?"

"Sure."

Jim didn't comment on how this was totally out of character for Bones. It would have been like acknowledging a skittish cat that had finally crept out from under the couch - so he acted like this was something that happened every day.

He managed to stop himself coaching his friend and showed great restraint each time Bones pocketed a ball and made sure to respond with a cool, manly nod.

And his reward for all this self-control? Allowing his eyes to linger on his friend's butt when he lifted a long leg off the floor so he could cue an awkward ball; watching him bridge with those double jointed fingers and taking in how his eyes darted along the line of the cue, up to the ball, back to the tip of the cue as he adjusted the angle. Bones looked so damn sexy, he had to take care not to bite the end off his bottle.

Then Jim potted three balls in a row.

They'd barely spoken throughout the game, just Bones humming along to Neil Diamond, neither of them having acknowledged that Jim would have made the selection on the juke box for his benefit.

Bones scowled at the second pot, rested his cue against the table for the third and muttered, "Dammit..."

Jim pretended not to hear. "It's curtains, Bones,” he said, licking his lips.

And the white followed the black down.

"Shit." Bones said, without a trace of sympathy in his voice, drawing out the vowels. He retrieved the cue ball and cradled it in his hand while he considered. Then, indicating which pocket with a slight incline of his head, he set the white down and cued up.

Bones blinked like a cat regarding a mouse, head still, lips parted and pulled his right arm back in one smooth, unfaltering line to smack the black straight down.

He looked at Jim over his shoulder before he straightened up - no trace of emotion on his face. Then slipping the pool cue back into the rack, he advanced on Jim - shit, all he needed to complete the picture was spurs. He didn't stop walking until he was right in Jim's space.

Jim could only watch in bewilderment as Bones put the palms of his hands either side of Jim's jaw - he could see his mouth getting closer until at the last moment, Bones tipped Jim's head forward and planted a loud kiss on his forehead.

Stunned, Jim watched as Bones unhooked his leather jacket from the back of the chair.

"Let's go." he said, heading out.

 

 **four**  
Jim figured that if he was this drunk, then Bones had to be too. This was his chance but he'd have to cover up good - really play up the inebriated angle.

Thankfully, he didn't have to pretend to fall asleep on Bones' bed - that part happened without any duplicity but, ever the strategist, his last thoughts were drunken instructions to his body to do some wriggling.

Bones took up the other half of the soft bed, PADD in hand, catching up on campus news.

Silly ass, Jim thought, keeping his clothes on like that and staying above the covers. Well, he didn't believe in no-win scenarios -

As he woke, he could feel that his ass had obligingly pressed into Bones behind him. He had no idea whether his friend was awake or not. A little wriggle, that’s all he’d need to find out. There was no reaction. The old dog must be asleep. He tried again, irritated by how tangled up in the covers he was and aware of how crushed his dick felt.

He needed air so he kicked back the covers and stretched out bare legs - Bones must have removed his jeans while he slept. Okay...?

"You awake?" he whispered pushing up on his elbow. McCoy's eyes were closed, arms folded and legs straight out almost touching the foot of the bed.

"Yes. Now shut up." he grumbled.

"I'm, er...hard - " Jim said conspiratorially.

"And the pope wears a funny hat. What's fucking new, Jim?"

Silence.

"Bones?" his voice a whisper.

"Uh-huh?"

"Would you kiss me goodnight?"

Silence.

Then a creak from the bed as Bones turned onto his right side to face Jim. He could smell the whiskey on his breath.

"You're drunk." he said, his eyes on Jim's mouth.

"I know." Jim blinked, licked his lips.

"So am I."

"I know."

Their eyes locked.

"I'd be taking advantage of you," Bones said. "Not my style."

Jim tried to construct and send some telepathic message via his eyes along the lines of _I want you to take advantage of me_ , and for a second he thought it had worked because his friend's face blurred as it came closer to his. He closed his eyes, waiting -

"Goodnight, Jim," Bones said, shifting over to his other side, his back to Jim.

Jim fell back asleep immediately with the damp impression of McCoy's lips between his eyes, cursing that his friend was such a gentleman.

 

 **three**  
"JIm!"

He stopped halfway down the steps and spun round to look at McCoy.

"Come on, Bones, we have to celebrate!"

McCoy caught him up, his forehead dark with lines. "You'll be fucked for doing this -"

"You're wrong. This will go down in academy history." Jim put his hands on McCoy's shoulders, "No one has ever broken the fucking test!"

"But you cheated. They won't trust you now. They'll never trust you."

Jim pulled Bones towards him - spoke up close to his face, "It's ok, Bones - _I'll_ be ok. I always am."

Then he kissed him on the forehead and sprinted off grinning before his friend could sock him on the jaw.

 

 **two**  
The long discussion and exposition on the bridge had exhausted him. He’d gone further than he intended telling the crew about Elder Spock and he was pissed at the constant but understandable questioning so, while the crew discussed options on how to transport him and Spock to the Narada, Jim decided he needed to grab a quick shower. McCoy's quarters was the only place he felt he could go without asking - _what's yours is mine_ had become a given after three years together at the academy.

Five minutes - he just needed five minutes to bring down the intensity some and prevent the strain getting to him. He really couldn't let the crew see him falter in any way. He was already furious with himself for allowing his irritation to show when they'd made him work so hard at persuading them that they had to pursue the Narada - and what the fuck was McCoy playing at, questioning him at every turn -?

He stepped out of the shower to see McCoy standing in the middle of the living area.

"Bones, I'm in a hurry."

"I wanted to explain - about not stopping Spock --"

He already had his pants back on, pulling his black cadet shirt over his head.

"It's been a couple of days of us doing what was necessary, Bones." He hopped on one leg as he put first one boot on, then the other, pushed past McCoy and then hesitated by the door. He thought for a second, took a step back towards his friend and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Now come on, asshole, we have the little matter of ambushing the Narada to solve and I need you there. Let's pray Chekov and Sulu have come up with something."

They both ran to the turbolift.

 

 **one**  
McCoy looked exhausted. Kirk had spent the whole night with Pike, watching his friend calmly attend to him. He hadn't accepted any treatment himself - he could handle a few cracked ribs. What he couldn't handle was the agony of watching the one man who’d even come close to representing a father for him, suffer like this.

Kirk wondered for the thousandth time how he could have prevented the stubborn old fool from delivering himself to Nero; and there was that persistent, dark thought, like a shadow across his heart, a conviction he too would end up like this, sooner rather than later. Hell, he hadn't even finished his classes and he’d already nearly died at Spock’s hands, and almost been breakfast for a scrotum snow monster to say nothing of the near misses on the Romulan vessel.

He scrutinized Pike's gray hair and wondered if he would ever get to an age where he'd start to look like a man and less like a kid, when people would take him seriously without the grand gestures. Yet if the past few days were any indication, he'd be lucky to make it to thirty.

He heard a footfall behind him.

"Jim. You should get some rest."

"I could say the same to you. You look like shit."

"I haven't the choice - 'sides, I'm used to this and I know I can catch up once we get back to land."

"I don't have the choice either, Bones.” He drew a long breath that nudged at his sore ribs. “I'll never forgive myself if he dies." He croaked.

"He won't. I've made sure of that."

McCoy held up a hypo, "I know you're wired, but you need some sleep, go lie down on the bed in my office. You can get an hour's sleep and I'll clean up your face for you while you do that, k?" He strode to the office, knowing Kirk would follow.

Jim touched Pike on the hand, looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking and leant over to kiss him on the forehead.

"You get better you old bastard,” he said and limped after McCoy.

"Just an hour, okay?"

"Okay.” McCoy frowned as he loaded the hypo, “I'm still adjustin' to your captain tone - just don't let this bullshit make your head swell up more than it has already?"

Jim smirked. “No danger of that with you around, eh, Bones?”

"Yep. Now shut up and sleep."

 

 **zero**  
"I'm never going to come down off this high, never."

McCoy watched him through the bedroom screen.

"I'll make it my business to keep your feet grounded, dontcha worry, Jim."

Jim heard him remove his uniform - he knew Bones hated it with a passion.

"Got anything of mine back there - I could do with a change of clothes too."

"Reach down under any chair or behind any bookshelf, you're bound to happen upon some skanky item of yours."

"Is that a yes?" Jim stretched out on the couch, pressed his chin into his chest so he could get a good look at the medal. "Should we dress smart, Bones, for the ceremony?"

"Fuck 'em," came the reply. "You're a hero - you, young man, _set_ the fashion!"

A folded t-shirt sailed over the partition then a pair of black jeans.

"Black? I'll look like I'm in uniform."

Bones emerged from round the partition wearing a white shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. Fuck he looked hot.

"You've put something in your hair," Jim laughed, "Looks like you've had an electric shock."

Bones scowled and advanced on him.

"I need to whoop your ass, Jim. Someone does before you get so damned arrogant you insist they name the new Vulcan colony after you."

Jim had stood up. They looked at each other, inches away, unsure what to do next.

"Is that a promise?" he finally managed to say.

And Bones was closer still, his breath warm against Jim's mouth but not quite touching.

"You're the captain."

"Yes, I am." He flicked his eyes to Bones' mouth, "And for the record, _this_ is where captains like to be kissed." He raised a finger to his lower lip and Bones followed it as if hypnotized, gifting him a soft, closed-mouthed kiss.

"More later." he said, "But first we need to get you changed - it's a big night ahead."

"And that had better be a promise too, Bones. I've waited a long time for this."

 **FIN**

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